


Talking to the Moon

by Staymay5



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Chameleon Arch, F/M, Human!Doctor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staymay5/pseuds/Staymay5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Kill the Moon. The Doctor returns home to Clara to work things out, only he's not quite his usual self. Why does the Doctor think they're married? And can Clara fix both the Doctor and their relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daniel

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after KtM and thought it was time to start posting it. The story is ultimately a Whouffaldi story, however seeing as Clara was with Danny that does play a part in the story. The first chapter is Doctor light as it sets up his absence, but don't worry you'll see plenty of him soon ;)

Life was normal. Not that Clara really knew what normal was anymore, but as far as she knew life was normal. Logically she assumed that the Doctor had taken what she said to heart. It wasn’t the good bye she wanted, but she could bring herself to regret it either.

 

Sighing she pulled a bottle of wine from the shelf. The way things had been going hadn’t been okay. There was no way she could keep that up forever. It was better to end it on her own terms than wind up dying and alone in some distant time and place; she’d already done enough of that thank you very much. Removing two glasses from the wall she made her way back to the living room.

 

“Hope you like red,” she said giving Danny the flirtiest smile she could manage, “I’m out of white.”

 

Of course he gave her a big grin back, “reds fine, thanks.”

 

She laid down beside him and poured some for the both of them. She loved Danny, really she did, it’s just recently things had been too easy too comfortable. It was setting her on edge. Was there something wrong with her? That’s not the sort of thing one usually get stressed about, but she kept waiting to have fights where there were none to be had.

 

Danny seemed to understand though, sometimes too well. She knew she was making _that_ face again because he gave her a small smile and shook his head before returning to watching the show.

 

_“You’re making that face again,” he sighed moving by the window to stand beside her._

_She didn’t move at all her eyes piercing through the glass looking for something the tips of her fingers pressed to her lips, “what face? This is just my face, my extra wide face that does face stuff.”_

_“Clara look at me,” he said softly. When she didn’t move frowned and placed both of his hands gently on her shoulders turning her to look at him, but her head remained rooted in place. “He’s not coming back it’s been months.”_

_“Good,” she bit out still not looking at him her eye getting all shiny, “he better not.”_

_“You don’t mean that,” Danny whispered softly turning her chin too look at him. He hated this, really truly hated this. “You love him.”_

_She shook her head fiercely, “I love you.”_

_He gave a small laugh, “you can love us both. Trust me Clara there’s so much love in your heart it could fuel universes. It’s an honor to receive any of it.”_

_She simply shook her head again, “I don’t love him. He’s mean and bitey and rude. We fought all the time. I don-”_

_And just like that he was hugging her. She didn’t move at first and when she did she was a little stiff and awkward, “seems like someone’s out of practice.”_

_“He didn’t like hugs,” she mumbled into his chest relaxing into him._

_“You know my best mate in the army was like that,” he whispered into her hair. “He was mean, like really properly mean. And no amount of force could beat the rude out of him, he got in trouble for mouthing off every other day. Plus we argued all the time, and I mean all the time. Sometimes I think he did it on purpose, it was like he liked to drive people up the wall. I seemed to be the only one who could stand him, that’s probably why they teamed us up so often. Underneath it all he was a really good guy though. Closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. The people we love don’t always deserve our love, but sometimes they need it maybe that’s the point of it all. Just don’t forget to love yourself okay?”_

_“Okay,” she whisper holding on to him. And in that moment she knew whether the Doctor came back she was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright._

“Danny?” She questioned softly not wanting to interrupt his show.

 

He paused and looked down into her big eyes, “hm?”

 

“I was thinking,” she began hesitantly worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, “our anniversary’s coming up in a couple of months.”

 

“Yeah,” he said pleasantly surprise, “yeah I suppose it is.”

 

“I was thinking,” she bit her lip again squirming against him.

 

He laughed, “you already said that. Being tongue tied’s my thing.”

 

Her cheeks flushed and she gave him a light shove, “I was think maybe we could visit Rome.”

 

“Oh,” he said surprised. Traveling, she’d probably missed it. It wasn’t really something he thought about much. But that’s what people like her do, right? Couples vacation. He wasn’t really sure he was ready to compete with her past trip experiences.

 

“Oh?” she asked nervously. Was that too much? Was she asking too much? Since her mom had died she never planned on asking anyone else to travel with her. And the Doctor asking her to travel with him was just a luck coincidence.

 

“Rome,” he said removing his arm from where it was draped over shoulder a look of concentration on his face.

 

“Me and my mom- my mother and I,” he smiled at that the way she’d correct her own grammar sometimes, “we were going to go together. Just one out of one-hundred-and-one places we were going to go see, but-”

 

She kind of just drifted off after that, her eyes unfocused looking off into the distance, “he never took you?”

 

“I never asked him,” she said softly. It had never seemed right too. Not because it was her mother and hers place, but because when someone offers you all of space and time you don’t ask them to take you next door. Plus seeing it any other _time_ would have just seemed wrong. Snapping out of her stopper she smiled at him, “so, Rome?”

 

He blew out some air and placed his hands on his knees. He was touched, really. “Yeah, sure, of course.”

 

“Great!” she exclaimed a load lifted of her shoulder she resumed position against him waiting for him to resume the show.

 

“So… plans?”

 

“Naw,” she waved him off, “we’ll plan later.”

 

He frowned at her. How was he supposed to make this a great trip if he didn’t start planning?

 

She smiled at him. In her experience the best things you couldn’t plan.

 

There was a knock at her door. Now it was her turn to frown.

 

“Were you expecting someone?” Danny whispered as the knocking persisted.

 

“No,” she said slowly standing up, “no I was not.”

 

“Do you want-” she shook her head holding out a hand to cutting him off.

 

Slowly Clara tiptoed to the door grabbing one of Danny’s bats along the way, the knocking not letting up in the slightest. Upon reaching the door she slow slid open the lock and took a peak out before opening it all the way.

 

There he stood just as she remembered him, if not slightly worse for wear; Gray hair and all. “Clara!”

 

She blinked at him for a moment frowning when the shock wore off.

 

“Clara.”

 

“No,” she said sternly slamming the door shut with all her might.


	2. Unchained Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's back and willing to wait... only something isn't quite right.

“No,” Clara said flatly slamming the door on him.

 

“Clara!” he started up again pounding on the door to their flat. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest actually it gave him quite a warm feeling inside. Still Clara then, beautiful as ever. He pressed himself against the door feeling her presence on the other side. She’s waiting he realized.

 

“Clara, please let me in,” he’d hate to wake their neighbors. Not because he’d actually hate to wake them up, more so because he’d hate having to deal with them. Plus he looked ridiculous groveling out here, he’d do it of course but he looked ridiculous.

 

“Clara I know you’re there let me in,” he said his hand starting to get sore, really he was too old for this stuff. He could practically feel her roll her eyes her hand on the door knob, “please.”

 

She opened it again, just a peek though, but he knew better than to push, “hello.”

 

She’d keep the bangs he noted. Good he’d liked them. She’d kept the big watery eyes too, less good, but they could work on that. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I want to come home,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“It’s not your home,” she whispered and then paused with a wistful look in her eyes, “at least not anymore.”

 

It hurt. It really hurt, “okay, I deserve that.”

 

She was leaning against the door frame now, he wondered if she’d always looked that tiered or that sad for that matter.

 

“Why are you here?” she said like he was hurting her. Maybe he was. He noticed the way her hand shook over her heart.

 

“I miss you,” he replied again like it was obvious, like she should know. When had she stopped knowing?

 

“It’s been months.”

 

He’s not sure if it’s a statement or a question, but he doesn’t ask, doesn’t want her to shut the door on him again, “I want us to be okay again.”

 

She frowns at him her mind working away behind those big sad brown eyes of hers, “I’m not sure we can ever be okay Doctor.”

 

He flinches at the clinicalness of it, and how strange it is to see that domineer on her. “I want to try.”

 

He could see it in her face: the sadness, the fear. But he hoped as hard as he could that it wouldn’t matter, that she’d tell him she wanted to try to.

 

“Ask me again tomorrow?” she whispered unsure already beginning to dip back into the shadows from the door, taking all her light with her.

 

“Okay,” he said as strongly as he could swallow. He’d ask her every day if it meant she might say yes.

 

Nodding she shut the door, the lock slipping back into place shortly afterwards.

 

He stood there silently facing the door, not really sure what to do now. Out of the corner of her eye he spotted an unhappy neighbor in a robe clearly debating with themselves over whether or not to yell at him. Instead they seemed to settle on, “looks like someone’s in the dog house.”

 

He scowled, or perhaps that was just his face. “Yeah, yeah, take a picture it’ll last longer.”

 

Smiling the old man reached into his pocket pulled out an iphone and snapped a picture, “thanks, now when I tell my friend about the ass that kept me awake last night I’ll have a visual.”

 

This time he scowled for real, yes most certainly embarrassing. The neighbor retreated back into their flat leaving him to seethe by himself. What was he supposed to do know? Slow he crouched down until he was sitting on the floor near the door, no point in standing all night. He leaned against the wall the soft sounds from the tele coming from within her flat.

 

At some point he was awoken by a squeak, not exactly sure at which point he’d tuned out. It must have been awhile, there were no lights on anywhere now. His heart raced as the door started opening. He leapt to his feet a large smile on his face at the fact that she couldn’t even last the night. But no he was wrong and as the door shut he felt as if he’d been slapped.

 

Danny caught sight of him in the dark, and cleared his throat uncomfortably unfolding his jacket from his arm and sliding into it, “took you long enough.”

 

“Didn’t think she’d be so quick to replace me,” he spat fighting back hurt.

 

Danny gave him a small frown, “no one’s replaced you. Actually I quite proud to say I’ve earned my own place in her heart.”

 

He scoffed at the ridiculousness, “I’d be quite proud to put you in your place.”

 

Danny stiffened having no intention of letting the Doctor treat him like that, “and where would that be? Sir. If you need reminding you’re the one that hurt her not me. Do it again and I regret to inform you I’ll properly put you in _your_ place.”

 

The Doctor stiffened but otherwise remained silent.

 

“Goodnight Doctor,” Danny said harshly before turning about face and marching out. There was a soldier right there if he’d ever seen one.

 

“’Night,” the Doctor bit out after he left, “and may the better man win.”

 

It was impossible to relax after that. He paced back and forth down the hall sticking his hand in and out of his pockets. Getting Clara to forgive him would be a feat in itself. How was he supposed to compete with that? He wasn’t a spry chicken anymore (not that he was ever a chicken), and Clara was too good to be weighed down by somebody like him. Then again if there was anything he’d learned it was that he was much too selfish to live without her.

 

Eventually he just ended up standing in front of the door till the sun came up. At some point someone came around with the paper which he awkwardly took and then he was left alone again. He was deep in his thoughts when the door flung open.

 

There she stood, his Clara, well just Clara now he supposed she wasn’t really his anymore. She was just as stunning as ever, although he was sure she’d disagree. Her hair was a mess: obviously hadn’t brushed yet. Hadn’t decided to get dressed yet either: he smiled at her ragged oversized shirt. Actually seemed like she hadn’t really woken up yet either. She bent down to grab the paper; her eyes not really open yet, and frowned when she didn’t feel it there.

 

“Up here Clara,” he said softly.

 

Her eyes flew open and she flew back about a foot her hand on her heart, “are you trying to kill me?”

 

He smiled softly, how he’d missed her, “got your paper.”

 

She snatched it out of his had eyeing his suspiciously; “you stand here all night?”

 

He shook his head, “no I sat some of the time.”

 

She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his lapel yanking into her flat slamming the door behind them. The grin on his face grew, she was never the one to ask for anything, too bossy for that. Clara didn’t look to happy though, of course not he still had a lot of groveling to do. He followed her tiny foot steps into the other room watching the way she pulled her fingers through her hair. Only when they stopped did he look around and frown, “every things all,” he waved his hands unsure on how to phrase his displeasure, “different.”

 

“Yes,” she said softly, “I suppose it is.”

 

His frown grew; he didn’t like it when she said it like that. Like they were different. He silently sat on the couch trying to find a way to get comfortable in his own spot. Clara slip out of the room, but like the coward he was he was too afraid to follow her. She returned though, two steaming mugs in her hand. “Tea,” she asked sweetly.

 

He nodded. Making sure their finger brushed when he took it. She retreated immediately and he tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. Her hair was pulled up now, she hadn’t bothered changing though. She sat on the coffee table facing him and he fought back the urge to tap her nose.

 

“So,” she whispered obviously uncomfortable.

 

“I want to try again Clara,” he said with all the earnestly he could muster.

 

She sucked in a shaky breath, “I’m still angry.”

 

“Okay,” he said he could work with angry.

 

Her brow furrowed and she got that cross look on her face, “okay?”

 

“Yes, I’m not going to tell you not to be angry,” he said honestly, “I’m going to make it up to you.”

 

She shook her head and stood up, her bottom lip between her teeth, “You can’t just come back and- and what? Take me on a trip and think that’ll make everything okay!”

 

He frowned at her also standing, “Clara I’m willing to fight for this marriage. The question is are you?”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

He strode so that he was standing over her. She tried to move back but he held her in place, “Clara Smith I love you, I have always loved you. I know I’m a right git and sometimes just down right unpleasant but I’m willing to learn. You’re a good teacher Clara- no a great teacher, I’ll never be the man you deserve but I’m willing to try. So teach me how to be a good man. Say you’ll take me back, teach this old dog new trick. I made a promise to you till death do us part and I intend to keep it. I won’t smile till you smile. Then I’ll know we’re okay. What do you say Clara?”

 

She blinked at him, “wait, what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: If you haven't notice both the main title and the chapter tiles are songs corresponding to the story. If you're confused by the end don't worry, Clara is too. But all will be explained soon.


	3. Now You're Just Somebody That I Used to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's thrown for a loop by the Doctors strange behavior and honestly for a control freak she really should have more control over this whole thing.

The Doctor stood staring her down, “Clara I’m willing to fight for this marriage. The question is are you?”

“Wait, what?” she said confused. What in the world was he on about now? He moved towards her until she had to crane her neck up to see his face. There was something different there she noticed, something she was missing, something unrecognizable. Clara attempted to step back, to put some space between them, but his hands clamped down on her arms rooting her to the spot.

“Clara Smith I love you, I have always loved you. I know I’m a right git and sometimes just down right unpleasant but I’m willing to learn. You’re a good teacher Clara- no a great teacher, I’ll never be the man you deserve but I’m willing to try. So teach me how to be a good man. Say you’ll take me back, teach this old dog new trick. I made a promise to you till death do us part and I intend to keep it. I won’t smile till you smile. Then I’ll know we’re okay. What do you say Clara?”

She blinked at him, “wait, what?”

The wheels were spinning in her head as fast as they could and she seriously regretted having this conversation so early in the morning. There was something annoying about how he always seemed to throw her for a loop, never quite doing what she expected. He was staring at her with hopeful eyes and honestly she was just left really confused. Her mind rewound through the conversation trying to find some sort of hint, “Doctor? You just called me Clara Smith.”

“That’s your name,” he bit out through gritted teeth as she eye him, “and must you keep calling me that?”

Her eye brows knit together and she covered her mouth with her hand, “no it’s not. And what else would I call you?”

“As long as you’re my wife, yes it is,” he said rather forcefully before catching himself, his hands now clenched at his sides, “and how ‘bout my name.”

She frowned at him, something was wrong, something was very wrong. He really thought they were married, and Smiths, “John?” she guessed. It was rather obvious he’d used the alias John Smith quite a bit when they were together. By the way his eyes lit up she realized she must be on the right track.

“I don’t want to fight,” he whispered looking down at her.

She looked at him unsure of what to do, “maybe that’s all I’m capable of at the moment.”

“Okay,” he said taking a step back from her, “does that mean you’re willing to try?”

Clara wanted to say no. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to reconcile with the Doctor, let alone who ever this was. Shifting back and forth she bit her lip. What if he was in trouble? Or what if he’d been hurt and that was why he was acting like this? If he really needed her how could she say no? Then again she deserved better than this, deserved better than being put in positions like this.

Obviously her silence was putting him on edge. His eyes pleased with her, and so did his mouth, “please.”

“Maybe,” she said.

It seemed like that was good enough for him. He sat down with a sigh running his hand over his face.  She sat down again this time farther away from him and took him in. She’d ask him how long it’s been for him but she doubted he’d have the answer. It was strange seeing him here again, especially now that she’d been so sure he was gone for good, “where are you staying?”

He shrugged, “here I suppose.”

“No,” she said immediately. That most certainly would not be okay.

“It’s my home too, Clara,” he sighed staring her down.

Her eyes stung as she drew in a shaky breath, “no, not anymore.”

The Doctor looked away; no matter who he thought he was he could bare to see her cry like this. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said like it was a concession.

“No,” she said again slightly annoyed, like sleeping anywhere else was even on the table.

He frowned, “the floor then, not sure how good for my back that’d be.”

“You- you can’t stay here,” she sighed staring into her mug, “there must be- where were you staying before?”

He frowned at her confused, “here and there. But I’ve come home, to you.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she said staring into her tea like it’d have the answers she was looking for, “you can’t just come back and act like everything’s going to be okay.”

“Have you-” he paused swallowing, not really sure he wanted to know, “moved on?”

She looked up at him and tilted her the way she always does when she’s trying to fight back tears with a smile, “I’m trying to.”

He reached for her hand but drew back quickly and scoffed, “I’m gone for a few months, and what? You’ve moved on to soldier boy?”

She’s stuttered at him her mouth falling open in shock, “his names Danny!”

“Might be, might not be,” he waved her off, “like it matters.”

She sprung up angry now, “you’re the one that left! You’ve been gone for months; you’re the one who left!”

And like that he was up and standing. He invaded her personal space his temper rising with hers, “ _You_  sent me away! Let’s not forget that.”

She sucked in a breath reeling in her temper, her voice going quiet, “Yes let’s not forget that.”

And just like that he was on her. His hands in her hair, much too rough, his mouth moving against hers. The thing was she’d almost kissed back. Her brain was blanking and her gasp had given him an invitation to explore the corners of her mouth. And her hands! They certainly shouldn’t be doing that! Should be grabbing at those gray curls, pulling him into her. What was she doing?

Slowly she regained control of her brain and was able to pull her hand down to his front and shove him away. Hurt and confusion was written across his face as he stared down at her, she honestly had no idea what look graced her own face though. It’d been awhile since she’d been so thoroughly kissed, she touched her swollen lips with her fingers as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Clara,” he gruff Scottish lit reached her ears sounding both confused and worried. Which actually now that she thought about it was exactly how she was feeling right now.

“Get. Out.” She whispered not moving.

His hand moved as if he was going to brush tears off her cheak, but then he seemed to decide against it. Quietly he grabbed his jack off the floor; how it ended up there she had no idea, and folded it over his arm. Swiftly he stuck his hands in his pockets and clenched them into fists. His mouth opened once or twice like he might say something, yet again he didn’t.

She realized she was shaking… and crying… neither were really anything she wanted to do, let alone be seen doing. So really, he needed to leave, like now. He seemed to understand that though and quietly snuck from the room closing the door behind him as he left.

Slowly she lowered herself to sit out the couch. It was still warm from his presence. She didn’t know how she’d expected things to go, but it certainly hadn’t been like this. Guilt racked through her, she’d kissed him back. Danny had been there for her, she loved Danny, Danny was actually good for her, and yet… she’d kissed him back. Rubbing her temples she took a few calming breaths. As soon as she knew she was okay she realized she needed to make a plan. A plan that went something like: call Danny, get dressed, find the Doctor, put the Doctor some place he couldn’t cause trouble, figure out what the bloody hell was going on, fix whatever it was, and then deal with everything else. Seemed like a simple enough plan, she sighed, not.

Quickly she whipped the tears from her face and made her way to her room. Once there she snatched up her phone and hit the top number in her favorites. It went straight to voice mail. She threw her phone at her bed highly frustrated, “seriously Danny!? Turn on your phone.”

She rummaged through her clothes, but nothing seemed quite right. Angrily she gave up and settled on her go to: tiny dress, black tights, and boots. Actually now that her mind was working properly she realized everything she was doing could be modified by the adverb of ‘angrily’: angrily brushing her hair, angrily putting on makeup, angrily brushing her teeth, angrily grabbing her phone, angrily slamming every single door in her house.

She checked her phone. No new messages. She texted Danny, ‘Doctor’s not the Doctor. I’ll explain later call me when you can.’ When a minute passed and there was nothing she bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably. Well she couldn’t just sit around here all day, looks like this was something she was going to have to handle on her own for now.

With a sigh she grabbed her keys and her phone she left her flat. First things first, if she was going to get down to the bottom of this, she was going to have to find the Doctor. The in the spirit of Strax she thought she would attempt very hard to not melt him with acid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some other stories coming everybody's way soon. I may also upload next weeks chapter early as I'll be out of town next weekend at a Wedding and might find myself unable to find internet access, so keep an eye out for that. Hope everyone's finals go well and that you all are having a wonderful start to the Holiday season.


	4. You're In My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor- er John finds himself in a worse position than originally expected and living plans get situated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah so, here's the next chapter. It's earlier than usual, but I didn't want to make anyone wait simply because I'll be away and possibly unable to post it otherwise. I hope you enjoy.

She was everywhere: Clara, his Clara; in his hearts, in his mind, in his veins. John Smith had never been quite sure when she’d so thoroughly wormed her way under his skin, but he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. There was always something magical about her. She always had this way of making him feel young again. And despite the fact that she was yelling at him he couldn’t contain the way it made his hearts… er- heart pound.

Yes, it was true, he loves her. That was saying something, John Smith didn’t love much. So high on adrenaline and high on being so close to her after so long, he kissed her. He had no intention on stopping there however. He knew the moment he started there’d be hell to pay for this, his little control freak was supposed to kiss him first then he’d know he could kiss her. But seeing as he’d already broken the rules might as well blow things out of the water. Hell if he played his cards right he could ruin kissing anyone else for her.

His hands laced through her hair steadying her in place. But after that everything was fast and heavy. The way her body crashed into his, the feeling of her fingers on his scalp, and her mouth tastes like lazy morning. For a moment as her hand slide down his front his mind is sure things are going to go in quite a different direction, his hand already prepared to dart under the hem of her shirt.

Then suddenly he was cold. He stumbled back from her hurt. It doesn’t take a genius to realize she’d shoved him. His mind began to reel. Had he pushed her too far? Had he misread her response? Looking at her his mind is taken back to his wedding toast: five-foot-one and crying, he never stood a chance.

“Clara,” he whispers to her one of his hand extended in worry. She was shaking, like really shaking, and she’d grown so white he was afraid she was going to fall over. Had he hurt her? Whatever it was, whatever he’d just done to make her look like that, he’d give anything in the world to make it better.

“Get. Out.” She whispered not moving.

His hearts constricted in pain, but it wasn’t the first time she’d kicked him out and he sincerely doubted it’d be the last. For a moment he thought to wipe away her tears. His hand moved of its own volition before he shook his head clear, he wasn’t that man.

Slowly he bent down, his eyes never leaving her, to pick up his jacket from the floor. He should be mad, he was rather fond of that jacket, but he’d never be able to be properly mad at her removing his clothes. Well that wasn’t entirely true, the first time he’d bitched and moaned and insisted on folding his stuff and hers while she laughed at him from their bed.

He folded it over his arm lacking the concentration to actually put the darn thing on. His hand still itched to touch her, clenching and unclenching as if their nerves had been rubbed raw. Realizing the only way he was going to be able to keep them under control, he stuffed them into the deep recesses of his pockets. He made to leave, but found he couldn’t.

Clara, his- no not his Clara, he thought softly. She was still standing there looking so lost and broken, and in that moment he really truly hated himself. She deserved better, but he was selfish and hoped desperately she’d never realize that. He thought about saying anything, but he knew better, he was her husband after all. She needed her space, they’d work things out, they always had before.

Slowly he left making sure to close the door behind him. All the way down the stairs he’d resisted the urge to kick something. The garbage can outside sure took a beating though. The sun was out beating on him, and quite frankly he had nowhere to go, couldn’t even be quite sure where he’d come from for that matter. John Smith was officially down on his luck with no place to go.

After a short bit of wandering he gave up and plopped down on a local park bench. He didn’t know why he’d though winning Clara back would be so much easier. Part of him he guessed had just assumed she’d have been waiting for him to come back. His eyebrows furrowed scarring a passing child; nothing would never be that simple with Clara. He still held out hope though, she’d never given up hope on him before.

So there he stayed lounging on the park bench until the sun rose high up into the afternoon sky.

Someone was blocking his sun. A deep from formed on his face and he was just about to tell them to bugger off when he realized it was Clara. She was stunning, really when wasn’t she. He could tell she’d gone for the twiggy look: signature red lips and ridiculous eye liner include (seriously it’s like face calligraphy or something). His eyes took in all black and white strips hugging her tiny curvy frame and attempted to control his rapid pulse. Maybe he’d die of a heart attack and save himself all the groveling.

“You look like you belong in some odd ‘60s photo-shoot,” he commented taking her in.

She ground her teeth plopping down next to him, “yeah, well you look like you belong in a hobo parade.”

“Mine was at least a compliment,” he muttered crossing his arms. After a moment of silence passed between them he added, “am I at least a sexy hobo?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “yeah sure, you’re the sexiest hobo in the freakin’ parade. Happy now?”

His mouth quirked up at her sass, “not unless you are.”

“I’m being cooked alive. What do you think?”

“It’s all the black,” he mutter waving his hand at her, “were you always this sassy?”

“Doctor,” she stated and he growled slightly, he wanted this to work but he really just wasn’t built for this sort of thing.

“Jonn,” she corrected herself laying her hand a top his, “I’m dying out here, may we please continue this where there’s air conditioning?”

“As you wish,” he smiled hopping up and presenting her with his hand, which she hesitantly took. Linking her hands around his elbow after she stood up before she’d let them go anywhere.

Shortly down the path he noticed how all her movements seemed hesitant and calculated and he couldn’t help but smile at his tiny bossy wife, “how do you put up with me?”

She frowned looking up at him, “if you haven’t noticed, I don’t.”

He shrugged, “touché.”

Finally they arrived at a small chip shop he knew well, came here all the time with a girl he knew back in college. Seemed like lifetimes ago when he thought about, he supposed in some ways it was.

They squeezed into tiny booth in the back, neither of them saying anything until they had two cups of tea and a basket of chips situated between them.

“John,” she began like his name felt funny on her tongue and it irked him, “what are we going to do?”

“Try,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if it was the right answer, but he trusted she’d tell him.

She shook her head, “what does that even mean though? Because what you did this morning, it wasn’t okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. He didn’t mean it of course, couldn’t be sorry for kissing her. She could see right through him though and shifted around uncomfortably before adding more honestly, “I’d never want to make you cry.”

“I know,” she said softly staring into her drink again, “doesn’t seem to stop you from doing it anyways though.”

There was a sickening silence. Her words cut them, but they were true. Perhaps that’s why they were able to cut him that way. So he said the only thing he could, “I love you.”

“I don’t know that I believe you,” she said looking him right in the eyes before clearing her throat and stubbornly refusing to look at him.

His chest restricted painfully as he struggled to breathe. What sort of husband was he? Sure he was irritable and immature and untimely, but he’d always assumed she knew. He always assumed that underneath it all it all his affections were clear. “Clara, I love you,” he repeated like saying it again would somehow change things.

She remained silent, neither acknowledging his love nor admitting her own. Eventually she cleared her throat, “I suppose the first thing we need to do is figure out where you’re staying.”

“With you,” he said quietly, although he doubted she’d go along with it.

“What about Danny?” she suggested like it was reasonable, “he knows you, maybe he’ll-”

“I’m not staying with your boy toy,” he laughed harshly causing her eye to twitch.

“I’d ask Adrian to take you in, but I’m not sure it’d be right to inflict you on anyone else,” he had to bite back a scowl at that one. He was perfectly pleasant to live with, but he’d let her make any excuses she wanted to let him stay.

“I’m sure there’s a homeless shelter around here somewhere,” he pouted overdramatically, “don’t worry I won’t mention I married to you; wouldn’t want to tarnish you reputation.”

“You’re an ass,” she spat.

It was silent for a moment when he went to apologize, “I know. I suppose I am.”

Not exactly what he was going for, but close. Her eye softened and she bit her lip, “fine.”

He tried to stomp down the hope in his heart, not wanting to let it get to out of hand if he misunderstood, “what?”

“You can stay,” she sighed, “on the couch though and no funny business.”

He moved his hands to brush hers a smile on his face but she quickly pulled her hands away, “no, I smile. Then you’ll know you can smile. Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t Clara,” he said seriously wiping any trace of a smile from his face, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the real fun begins Mwa ha ha. I'm just kidding, but not really there's something quite fun about shoving these two under the same roof when they're having domesticity problems ;)


	5. Where Did Our Love Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara gets the Doctor settled in and explains things to Danny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry for the delay, I've been out and away but I'm back now... well mostly. Anywhoo I hope you enjoy :)

Clara had forgotten just how much having the Doctor around wore her out. They’d finished their awkward meal at the chip shop when she insisted that she was done with conversation for the day. Of course they’d not really accomplished anything, on his side or hers, and Danny still hadn’t messaged her back. She sighed searching for some clothes the Doctor could change into after he got out of the shower she ordered him to take.

Of course he hadn’t bothered waiting and had just walked out butt naked. She let out a squeak and spun away earning her a soft chuckle, “you’ve seen me naked before.”

“John,” she reprimanded using his current preferred name, “don’t.”

“Fine, you’re the one who insisted I shower though,” he joked standing behind her watching her fumble around for an outfit for him.

Eventually she found some old things of his that were reasonably comfy and managed to pelt him with them over her shoulder. Bulls’ eye, she smiled hearing him let out a grunt. Part of her thought about peaking, but you know what they say about curiosity.

Only when she was sure he was dressed did she turn around. The sight made her sad though, reminded her of one to many nights were she’d force cuddled him on the T.A.R.D.I.S. He seemed to notice though and he shifted around uncomfortably not sure what to do.

She checked her phone one more time and sighed, “well it’s been a long day. Better get you set up, then I’m headed off.”

“I can-” he started but she shook her head.

“I’ve moved things around since you left,” she said softly.

“Oh.”

He was quiet after that somberly following her out of the room. It only took her a few minutes to grab some pillows and blankets; she wasn’t too sure which ones he’d like because he used to just use hers, but she could take the way his eyes were burrowing into his back anymore. “Here you go.”

He took them from her holding them just a little too close to his body as if they’d provide him some comfort, “Clara-”

She felt her pocket vibrate and she held her finger up to him, “ah give me a mo’. Danny! Where’ve you been all day? I tried calling you.”

“Yeah I got your texts,” came a laugh from the other end and she scowled, “so… the whole Doctor thing?”

“Ah yes that,” she began, already forgetting that the Doctor had been about to say something, moving to her room and closing the door behind her.

“Well?”

“Sorry, just had to close the door,” she said flopping down on the bed trying to get comfy.

“Wait? He’s still there?”

“Well sort of,” she said biting her lip, “there’s something wrong with him. I haven’t figured out what exactly, but he seems a little bit confused about who he is at the moment.”

“And he can’t stay in the T.A.R.D.I.S. until he figures it out,” despite not being able to see his face she could hear the exasperation.

She sighed, “I’m not even sure he knows what that is right now. I tried to get him to stay somewhere else, but underneath it he’s still that same stubborn ass.”

“You’re worried about him?”

“No,” she denied much too quickly, “yes, yes I am. He’s- he’s-”

“Your friend,” he supplemented for her understandingly. She frowned, Clara knew he choose those words for her.

“Yes, he’s my friend,” she said softly.

“Are you going to be okay?”

She let out a short laugh, “yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Clara,” he pressed, “you tell me if you’re not okay. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said quietly. Neither one of them said anything for a moment. Things always got like this when they talked about the Doctor, “I just have to figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it.”

“And the thing between you two?”

Clara rubbed her temples feeling a headache coming on, “I don’t know. Like I said he’s confused. He thinks we’re married or something-”

“You aren’t are you?”

“No,” she said, now she was exasperated. “Sometimes, a long time ago, we’d do undercover work. Mr. and Mrs. Smith was more of a convenience or game or- or something. But like I said that was a long long time ago, he was a different man then?”

“Were you?”

“Was I what?” She said confused.

“A different woman. Back then, when you were together- with him, were you a different woman?”

“I- I don’t know,” she breathed, “maybe. We were different though. I’m sure of that. It was a different time, things were easier then. I didn’t realize- I didn’t know back then how bad things would get. It all seemed like a good day’s fun-”

“Clara,” he said softly.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done the things I did, because I don’t regret them for a minute. But yes, yes I think you’re right. I am a different person. I don’t want to do those things- I don’t want to make decisions like that- I don’t-”

“Clara,” he said again drawing her back, “I know. It’s okay. I’m not- I just wanted to know where we stand.”

“I love you,” she whispered sadly like it would somehow override the other things she was feeling.

“I know,” he said softly. He’d never said it back, but that was okay Clara never expected to hear someone say they loved her and mean it.

“We’ll figure it out,” he added after a moment of silence, “good night Clara.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “good night Danny.”

She let out a frustrated grunt kicking her shoes off the side of her bed and rolling over. So yeah, that was totally helpful, not. All she managed to do today was get in a fight, cheat on her boyfriend (oops she forgot to mention that to him), and spend countless hours wandering around London looking for he quote unquote husband; Perfect use of a Saturday.

Wait! Clara slapped herself in the forehead. She’d totally forgot about the Doctor in the other room, no way she was going back in there now. She’d just have to deal with him in the morning, he was a big boy he could handle himself. Sucking in a breath she shouted into the other room, “good night d-John!”

There was a scurrying noise followed by a crash and a bang. It had only been one day and she already was going to fix stuff. Maybe she could bribe Danny into coming over and helping her move things around back into a more Doctor friendly location. She’d have to distract the Doctor though; he’d insist everything was fine as it was. Maybe she could make him bake cookies to Bribe Danny- nope that was a terrible idea.

“Good night Clara,” a Scottish voice finally shouted back, she rolled her eyes.

She should really change and wash her face. She wasn’t going to. A yawn escaped her mouth without permission and she felt exhaustion taking her. “Good night doctor,” she whispered knowing he couldn’t hear her. Then slowly, but surly, she drifted to sleep.


	6. Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor gets some insight on where Clara stands and goes back to his roots to impress her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's had a good week, can't believe they're already going to be filming season 9! Enjoy!

It was difficult to control himself around her, especially now, John had always been one for teasing. Hence his wonderful no towel idea, which as fun as it was to watch her blush, hadn’t exactly worked out in his favor. That how he’d ended up in this ridiculous get up, but if she kept looking at him like that he might never take it off.

 

He stood there uncomfortable. When she looked at him like that it made him want to- but no he couldn’t. She’d made it quite clear that, well _that_ , wasn’t on the table. But then just like that she was back to ignoring him, checking her phone. Trouble in paradise?

 

She sighed, “well it’s been a long day. Better get you set up, then I’m headed off.”

 

He frowned, it wasn’t even that late, they hadn’t even had a proper meal. But if she wanted to get away from him that bad he might as well help, “I can-”

 

“I’ve moved things around since you left,” she told him softly, her eyes holding too much pity for his tastes. He never did like being taken care of.

 

“Oh.”

 

He was quiet after that, her message was quite clear. She’d packed all his stuff away into a little box and moved on with her life. It’d only been a couple of months. He stood behind her as he watched her determinedly do her job, at least that hadn’t gone and changed on him too.

 

“Here you go,” she said thrusting a pillow and blanket at him.

 

 He gripped it tightly his heart pounding, “Clara-”

 

 “Ah give me a mo’. Danny! Where’ve you been all day? I tried calling you.” Her voice lit up taking on a more cheerful tone. Leave it to soldier boy to get in the way he scowled as she simply turned her back on him and walked away, closing the door behind her.

 

John sighed dragging the pillow and blanket over to their couch, well to her couch anyways. He laid there for less than a moment before he was back on his feet again. He had this problem, you see, that unless Clara was there he found it difficult to turn his thoughts off.

 

He’d gone through his time away in a sort of fog. John wasn’t really kidding earlier when he acted like he didn’t quite remember what he’d been doing without her. Even in his own head the idea sounded preposterous, a life without Clara in it, how would he manage.

 

The rational part of his brain whispered that if she’d refused to take him back he’d be just fine, he’d done well without her before. He shook his head at that and sighed finding that it didn’t really ring true. He had no idea how he’d do without her, he’d never been without her. He’d lived without acknowledgement of her presence, but he was almost certain he couldn’t go back to that.

 

Slowly he tiptoed back to her room. He was about to knock and he really didn’t have a plan after that, but then he heard her talking.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Smith was more of a convenience or game or- or something. But like I said that was a long long time ago, he was a different man then?”

 

She sounded tiered, but her word still effectively punched him in the gut. Was that really what she thought of their marriage? He knew he’d been more distant, and maybe a little more cold, when she’d sent him packing. But did she really feel like he was a different man?

 

“Was I what?” He heard her mumble after a pause, and he could almost picture the way she’d be chewing her lip raw right about now. He raised his hand again to knock, a desperate need to see her, to change her mind passing through him, but then she was talking again and he couldn’t bring himself too.

 

“I- I don’t know, maybe. We were different though. I’m sure of that. It was a different time, things were easier then. I didn’t realize- I didn’t know back then how bad things would get. It all seemed like a good day’s fun-” There was a pause, “I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done the things I did, because I don’t regret them for a minute. But yes, yes I think you’re right. I am a different person. I don’t want to do those things- I don’t want to make decisions like that- I don’t-”

 

John pulled back from the door as if it’d burned him. He’d hurt her, he knew that now, he supposed he’d known it then too. He was supposed to help her shoulder her burdens, that’s what marriage was about. How had he failed so poorly?

 

Standing there quietly for a moment he had a hopeful realization. She still loved him. She’d admitted she didn’t regret him. He’d just made things too hard for her, pushed her too far, he could still get her back. He could make things fun and easy for her again, prove to her he’s still the same man, that things didn’t have to change.

 

A smile made its way to his lips a plan slowly forming in his head. Suddenly John Smith felt a lot more at ease with his situation. “GOOD NIGHT D-JOHN!” The sound sent him flying out of his thoughts until he was lying flat on his ass. Had she been about to call him dear? HE smiled until another thought occurred to him. Did she know he was standing out right outside her door?

 

He sprung up and ran to the couch, none to careful not to knock into things on his way there. He’d pick whatever it was up in the morning. Waiting a minute he tried to catch his breath, didn’t want to alert her to what he’d just been doing. Finally he shouted back, “Good night Clara!”

 

Sleeping was difficult to say the least. Not so much because of his aching back or the couch, more so the lack of one tiny warm brunet pressed into his side. None the less he stayed there until it was reasonably light out before moving to put his plan into action.

 

Now John Smith was no chef, but his last wife, may she rest in peace, had taught him a thing or two about cooking. More importantly, if there’s one thing he’s learned in his years here on Earth, it was there was nothing quite like breakfast in bed.

 

It was impossible to keep the smile off his face as he worked. Once upon a time he’d done this for Clara quite often. He’d leave her water and flowers and cookies, which he’d immaturely had partial eaten, in the morning before he went to work so she’d have something pleasant to wake up to. Well he didn’t have any flowers now but he did recall how to fold a napkin into a rose, and no cookies either but perhaps growing up a little wasn’t that bad, as long as he made sure things stayed ‘fun’ and ‘easy’ at heart.

 

Rearranging the lap table half a dozen times the Doctor sighed and made his way to their room. When Clara didn’t respond to his knock on the door he assumed she was still sleeping and was grateful she didn’t lock the door on him. She was beautiful in her sleep, as if there were any time she wasn’t beautiful, but she somehow seemed more at peace.

 

Setting the tray down on the foot of their bed he made his way over to her side. Slowly he bent over and placed a small kiss on her forehead, “Clara, dear, I’ve made you breakfast.”

 

She blinked at him a couple times, her eyes still of sleep, her thumb tracing the back of his hand, “how come you’re not in bed?”

 

“Wanted to bring you breakfast,” he repeated hesitantly waiting to see if he could smile or not. The small smile on the edge of her lips to tell him it’s okay.

 

“MMMmm,” she hummed stretching, but not quite letting go of his hand. It took her a moment but a sudden awareness seemed to grace her and she blushed letting go, “g-good morning John.”

 

“Morning Clara,” he whispered pulling his hand back to refrain it from tucking that lose strand of hair behind her ear. He stood and brought her the tray.

 

“Oh,” she exclaimed her eyes lighting up in a delighted manner. She seemed to realize this and he watched as she slowly stomped all the light right off her own face, “this is very nice, you didn’t have to.”

 

“I don’t have to do anything,” he joked feeling as if it was something he’d said before, but he couldn’t quite place where. It was quiet for a moment as he took a seat in the chair near their bed and watched her delicately touch the silverware and his make-shift rose.

 

She cleared her throat, “so how’d you sleep.”

 

“Well,” he lied tucking his hands into his lap, “we used to do this more often I don’t know why I stopped.”

 

She paused looking at him confused.

 

He gestured to her table words failing him, “no cookies this time though. Didn’t eat any of your food either.”

 

Then she gave him one of her real smiles before biting her lip hesitantly, “do you remember when we first met?”

 

“Of course I do. Best misdial of my life, wasn’t even mine,” he laughed sarcastically annoyed that she’d think he could forget.

 

She shook her head and looked away, “no. I mean- I woke up and there was this stuff on my counter.” She paused as if she was caught in a memory, “the cookies- Jamie Dodgers, you eaten part of one-”

 

“I’ve gotten better at not doing that,” he interrupted feeling uncharacteristically nervous and she let out a light laugh.

 

“You were so strange. And then there you were- outside my window. Do you remember that?”

 

He stared at her for a long moment trying to read where this was going. But she looked so happy and light he realized that it wasn’t a lecture or a roast, at least at this moment. “Yeah, I was an idiot.”

 

She let of another cute chuckle her hand flying up to cover her mouth, “you were sweet.” She paused looking at him, something tender written on her face, “you’re still sweet.”

 

It was quiet for a moment as he attempted to accept her compliment awkwardly. She looked at him, those wheels turning in her head before she patted the bed, “John, come sit with me.”

 

He was about to protest, but the look she gave him left no room for argument, “yes ma’am.”

 

Stiffly he sat over the covers. Clara laid her head against his arm and sighed, “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too,” John whispered back and in his opinion it was the truest thing he thing he’d ever said.

 

“I miss my friend,” she continued her hand forcibly threading its fingers through his, not that he minded too much.

 

“I’m right here,” he whispered hopefully. Then he noticed it she was crying again, that same old weird smile cry thing she does, “why are you doing that?”

 

“Doing what?” she said looking up at him her smile getting aggressively tighter. He took his free thumb and swiped it across her cheek catching some tears that could answer her better than any words he had.

 

“Oh,” was all she said and he frowned.

 

“I don’t want to make you cry,” he whispered unsure of what he did wrong.

 

“And I don’t want you to go,” she responded like only one of them could have what they wanted.

 

It hurt him more than he thought it would. She loved him and loving him hurt her. “I’m sorry.”

 

She dug her nails into his arm looking suddenly furious, “no. You don’t get to come in here and make me- urggg- and then turn around and what? Leave!”

 

He looked confused, “I’m not leaving. Am I?”

 

“But- But you just said,” she looked him frowning.

 

“I’m sorry I’m hurting you,” he supplemented paraphrasing himself. He paused trying to correct the problem at hand, “I’m sorry I’m cross, and bad with words, and worse with touching and feelings.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, “that really doesn’t make this any easier.”

 

“I’m not going for easy, I don’t expect easy,” he said gruffly fighting back bitterness, “so we’ll take the hard route and make things better, yeah?”

 

“I- I can’t love you,” she whispered and he wasn’t quite sure what she meant. Did she not believe she loved him? Did she not think she was capable of loving him? Was she trying to tell him it hurt too much to love him?

 

“Tell me how then,” he whispered back, “because I don’t think I know how to stop.”

 

So they both laid there in that quiet room silently. Neither had the answer to that question and for now at least it wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things might get slightly racy coming soon, warnings up front. Human!Doctor's not exactly good with the no touching rule ;)


	7. Never Gunna Leave This Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor decide to begin talking things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late. Finally got my stitches out so I'm should be more on top of things now. Hope you enjoy :)

They didn’t move for some time after that. Clara was at one hundred percent loss at how to handle this situation. Was all this cheating on Danny? Did the Doctor even really feel this way? On that note if she made John happy would it make the Doctor angry? “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Let me worry about it,” he whispered from her side his eyes darting down at random intervals to examine her.

 

She bit her lip, “it feels like I’m cheating on Danny or somethin’.”

 

He growled, “I. AM. YOUR. HUSBAND.”

 

“And you’ve been gone,” she said remaining calm knowing that she’d have to, in order to get them through this, “if you leave again, ‘cause things don’t work out… it might not seem fair, but I don’t want to be alone.”

 

He sighed looking sad, “when you sent me away, I thought that was what you wanted.”

 

She shrugged picking at her food, “I thought so too.”

 

“It wasn’t?” he said looking genuinely confused.

 

“I think,” she began trying to be really honest with him, “I think I wanted you to feel abandoned like I had been.”

 

He was quiet like a statue looking ahead, but she could tell he was biting himself inside his mouth.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, but then she thought about Danny’s words, “but I’ve got to love myself too, right?”

 

“No, you were right,” he choked out, “of course, yeah.”

 

The guilt swelled inside her. He needed her; especially this him. And maybe if she’d been with him, she’d know what was wrong with him now. “I’m sorry.”

 

He looked at her and for a moment she thought he was going to be sweet, instead he just bopped her nose, “no don’t be sorry. No more sad Clara, okay?”

 

She laughed, “I’ll try.”

 

Letting go of his hand she slid under his arm and hugged him, it took a moment but his now free arm wrapped around her, his hand rubbing small circles on her back, “you’re hugging back?”

 

“I’m you’re husband,” he said for the millionth time sounding sad and confused.

 

“I know- it’s just-” she shook her head like she was clearing it, “never mind.”

 

He let go for a moment and she frowned, until she realized he was repositioning them. He drew her legs to lie across his lap and tucked her into his side. His arms held her unsurely and she could hear his heart pounding in double time, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes Clara, it’s time I started doing something about that.”

 

She went stiff at those words, her nails digging into his side, “shh.”

 

“No Clara,” he said tilting her face up by her chin to look at him, “I meant what I said before. I’m going to be a better man, from now on I won’t smile till you smile. And… if things don’t turn out… you won’t be alone, I promise, okay? I’ll make sure you’re not alone.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said quietly, knowing at this point that was impossible. Someone was going to get hurt… probably her. Not that she didn’t deserve it.

 

His hand slid along her thigh and she literally stopped breathing, “too much?”

 

“Yeah,” she gasped, “sometimes if feels like it goes from zero to sixty in a second flat with you.”

 

“I can work on that,” he whispered.

 

“Can we- can we just try being friends again first? And maybe,” she could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and she pressed her face into him, “maybe work on the communication thing, yeah? Like next time you feel like _that_ you can use words.”

 

He looked thoughtful, “I’d like to kiss you now. Push you back on to the bed, run my hand up your shirt and-”

 

Her startled laugh cut him off, “down boy. I’m going to need you to dial it back like one hundred notches.”

 

Quite frankly she was flustered and a little turned on hearing those words coming out of the Doctors mouth, letting her in on his thoughts seemed to have a noticeable effect on him as well. “Say that again.”

 

“Dial it down?” she asked confused.

 

He shook his head and looked at her like she was being stupid, “the first part.”

 

“Down boy?” the smile he was fighting clued her in she laughed, “Really, down boy. That’s what does it for ya?”

 

“You haven’t said that to me since before we were married,” he shrugged the small smile still on his face.

 

She wiggled out of his arm and out of bed, “I see you miss me bossing you around. In that case get up, I got to get dressed now, as nice as breakfast was I can’t stay in bed all day.”

 

He snapped to attention hopping out of bed like he was told earning him a laugh. “You are the boss, do I really have to get out, I mean I’ve seen you naked before.”

 

She gave him her best evil eye, “D-John, yes and you need to change too. Friends don’t hang out in their pjs.”

 

“What about sleepovers?” he joked leading to her pushing him out of the room.

 

“Out,” she made quick work of her clothes with seeing as she never fully undressed yesterday was fairly simple. When she walked out the Doctor hadn’t quite finished changing, and caught her staring. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen this face shirtless, his body defiantly had an appeal she blushed.

 

“See something you like,” he joked pulling a jumper over his head, “wait did you sleep in those tights?”

 

“Maybe,” she said vaguely letting him pout. Quickly she shot Danny a text ‘Tryin’ to figure out this Doctor thing, talk to you tonight’.

 

Sitting down she watched as he picked up the stuff he’d knocked over the other night, “so how do we… do?”

 

He looked at her for a moment, “I think we should talk about it.”

 

Her brow furrowed, “wait, what? Since when do we talk about stuff?”

 

“We don’t,” he said moving to sit near her, “but this is me, trying.”

 

Clara looked at him not sure what to say, “okay.”

 

“I should have never left you,” he whispered like it was a secret.

 

“No,” she shook her head, “I told you to leave.”

 

“Before that,” he corrected, “you needed me and I left.”

 

She sucked in a breath. Things were trickier now, guessing what he remembered and how he remembered it. His eyes were concentrated on her face, kind and patient. She didn’t know how to talk about this issue with him though, “it’s- it’s okay.”

 

“It wasn’t,” he said firmly, “it really wasn’t. You’ve always been there for me. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you. You’re crazy and brave and gentle and so many other things that I’m not. And I love you. So no, it was not okay. I made a bad decision and it wasn’t okay.”

 

She stared at him at a loss for words and shrugged offering him a smile, “I forgive you.”

 

“No!” He exclaimed standing up pacing, “stop trying to make it easy for me. Stop lying, I can’t make it better if you keep pretending like it’s fine when it isn’t!”

 

She hoped up upset now, “what do you want from me?!”

 

“I want you to yell at me, tell me how stupid I’ve been. Hit me or something Clara,” he said aggravated, “hurt me. Yes you heard me I’m asking you to hurt me.”

 

“Well I won’t,” she said stiffly.

 

He seemed to deflate at that, “why?”

 

She shrugged uncomfortably, “how could I hurt you? You’re my friend- I’m your career, I’m supposed to take care of you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

He only seemed to look sadder at that. He moved towards her and rested his head on top of hers, “I don’t know how to make it better otherwise.”

 

“It’s over can’t we just move forward,” Clara asked sheepishly. She could feel him shaking his head.

 

“I was scared,” he whispered, “I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t want us to kill it either. So I ran away, because I’m a chicken. I didn’t know what the right choice was, you always seem to know. I wanted to respect you, but I also ran away. I should have been there for you,” his hand slipped under her shirt again starling her, “but I ran away that was wrong.”

 

“D-John,” she gasped her hand moving on top of his confused, like really properly confused, “what are yo- communicate, please.”

 

He crouched down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, her heart beating one hundred miles a minute.


	8. Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John explain his side of things and Clara tries to reconcile with the man who may or may not share the Doctors true feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day :)

Oh Clara, John couldn’t help but feel she was much too good for him. He didn’t deserve her, at the moment he didn’t really care though. He put his head on top of hers, wishing their height difference was less pronounced so he could press his forehead to hers.

 

“I was scared,” he whispered, “I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t want us to kill it either. So I ran away, because I’m a chicken. I didn’t know what the right choice was, you always seem to know. I wanted to respect you, but I also ran away. I should have been there for you, but I ran away that was wrong.”

 

“D-John,” she gasped “what are yo- communicate, please.”

 

He could see the confusion in her eyes, but he didn’t know how to communicate, didn’t know how to make this better. He crouched down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, her hands absent mindedly rested on his shoulders. He could see it in her eyes, she was lost scared and confused, and she needed him to explain.

 

He moved her to the couch worried about her standing all wide eyed like that, “Clara, is this what you need? Do you need me to explain things from my point of view? Would that help… make it better?”

 

His insides were screaming. If there was anything he didn’t want to do it was sit there and talk calmly to her about his feelings, but for her… he’d do almost anything.

 

She blinked looking unsure, “um yes?”

 

He sat on the table in front of her much the same way she had the other night, “I want to start out by stating it’d be my honor to have children with you.”

 

She instantly looked panicked, like she was going to flee from him. He couldn’t let her, not when she admitted she needed this. He grabbed her arms, “it’s still your body Clara, your choice. Whatever you want, I’ll support you.”

 

She was running away in her head, he could see it in her eyes. She looked traumatized that they were even having this conversation, “Clara, please, say something.”

 

“Why,” her brow furrowed, “why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because I wanted you to know, above all the other stuff- going forward I wanted you to know that,” he whispered honestly watching the look of concentration coming over her face, he could tell he was making leeway.

 

“When you asked me what to do- I- I honestly didn’t know. I’m a bad person Clara, a selfish person,” she shook her head at his words like she was going to deny them, “It’s true. I make the wrong decision all the time. You never do. How could I make such an important decision about your future? It wasn’t mine to make, I was trying to respect you.”

 

She stared at him her eyes all watery again, “take me off that pedestal of yours right now, you hear me. I make the wrong decisions all the time, you choose chose not to acknowledge that I’m not perfect. That needs to stop, like now.”

 

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay. I’m not sure I can, but I’ll try.”

 

“No,” she said forcefully, “you _have_ to. I can’t be up there, someday I’ll fall and you won’t be there to catch me ‘cause you won’t even be thinkin’ you have to, and I’ll get broken.”

 

“I’ll never let you fall,” he said, but he could see it in her eyes _you already have._ She didn’t trust him, didn’t believe him.

 

“Everyone was telling me what to do. Did you think I wasn’t scared? ‘Cause I was, I was really scared,” she whispered at him angry tears in her eyes, “and your right I didn’t need you and it was my choice, but that’s not the point. If there was one person- one person I thought would be there when I needed-”

 

When she needed him, he knew that what she was trying to say, “I didn’t think I’d be of any help.”

 

“It wasn’t just that I was going to probably die- which I really did think that. I didn’t think I’d live no matter what choice I made,” she breathed, “but there were other people I had to think about. People who needed me to be strong for them, and I had to do that all by myself.”

 

“I would never have let you die,” John said unsure of what made him so sure of that. He wanted to touch her; it was a foreign feeling to him, “can I?”

 

Her hands slid into his and she looked at him with that strange sad look he didn’t understand again, “I wanted you to be there so bad, but you weren’t. But when you came back,” her eyebrow pinched together and she hesitated, “you made it seem like it was nothing, like I was nothing. Like I was only someone ‘cause you said so- like my pain my decision didn’t matter ‘cause you knew what I do all along. I am my I own person. I matter, my decisions matter, my pain matters.”

 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said so quietly he almost didn’t think she could hear him and she pulled away.

 

“Didn’t you?” she whispered back.

 

John Smith jerked back like she’d struck him. Why would she think he wanted to hurt her? Did she really think that low of him? Did she think he was that cold? “Th-that’s ridiculous!”

 

She scoffed leaning back and rolling her eyes, “so you’re telling me that you weren’t just throwing a fit because you didn’t like Danny? Sure sounded like that to me.”

 

He stared at her in shocked indignation, “what does Danny have to do with this?”

 

“Nothing,” she screamed, “he should have nothing to do with it! There wouldn’t even be a problem if you didn’t insist on throwing tantrums like a five year old every time I didn’t do exactly as you imagined.”

 

“I do not,” he bit out knowing she was partially right, “and if I did, I was right, wasn’t I? You left me for him.”

 

“You drove me away,” she screamed jumping up and thrusting her finger in his face.

 

This was more familiar territory, he knew how to do this, “I seem to remember it quite differently.”

 

“You don’t _need_ to tell someone to leave. You wouldn’t just say it, so I did it for you,” she bit out between her teeth, “you’re welcome, _Doctor_.”

 

He was on her in a split second, his hands gripping her forearms so tight he knew it must hurt. He searched her eyes and could see in her mind, her words-the things she was saying, were a hundred percent true. Well he pegged it earlier: they sure have a communication problem.  “How,” he growled before checking himself and starting over more calmly, “what in the world gave you that stupid idea? I _need_ you, I will _always_ need you. How could you not possibly know that?”

 

Pain filter onto her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. When she remained silent he shook her. Tears began to leak out of her eyes, “you’re different and I know you’re the same man, but you’re different too. You’re cold, you do nothing but insult me or ignore me, half the time you’re like a jealous boyfriend who can’t even handle me paying attention to anyone or anything else for that matter, and the other half you’re acting like you’re my father- which is just so wrong. And- and you make me feel stupid because I used to know- I did. You used to touch me- and I knew. But I don’t know any more. And you won’t touch me. So I’m stuck waiting for moment like this, so I can pretend everything’s the- but it’s not- this isn’t- this how I want to be touched.”

 

It hurt him, it did, but he’d stick there and take it. He’d take it because he loved her and she needed this, and she needed to be pushed or she’d just keep pretending she was fine- when she wasn’t she really wasn’t. She sucked in a breath and looked away calming herself, “I told myself I wasn’t going to fall in love with you. People warned me not to,” he frowned wondered what that meant, “I deserve someone who’ll love me right. I deserve better- and you push ‘cause you know that, right? You push ‘cause you know I won’t let go unless you make me? ‘Cause I don’t know any more, I don’t know you anymore, but I tried so hard. But I can’t live not knowing what’s real and what’s in my head-”

 

He cut her off, just a tiny peck this time. Controlled, John Smith could do controlled if he tried, “do you want me to talk or- or do you want me to touch you?”

 

“I don’t know what I want,” she whispered back. His hands loosen on her arms, he regrets that she’ll probably has bruises, sliding down her sides.

 

He breathed her in, committing it to memory, before stepping back out of her reach, “you want to be friends.”

 

“What do you want?” she whispers closing the gap between them, refusing to let him retreat. Her eyes are big and brown and full of hero worship, and he hates himself. It feels like an affair, even though he knows she’s his- _his_ Clara.

 

His hand raises to touch her face, but he’s a coward and moves to withdraw. Clara won’t let him though. She traps it with her hand and leans her face into it her eyes falling closed. She’s waiting for an answer and he’s finding it difficult to speak over the lump in his throat, “you. I want you.”

 

“I should tell you no. I’ll regret it later- and you’ll hate me. I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, “if I do, it’s over. It can never work.”

 

“I could never hate you,” John whispered back with nothing but adoration in his eyes and she let out a small laugh finally opening her eyes, “then what are you waiting for?”

 

_Ah screw it,_ John thought, _self-control was for suckers anyways._


	9. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and John Pillow talk with a side of Danny.

What the bloody hell was wrong with her? She felt the Doctor snuggle further into her back and tried to remain calm. What the hell was wrong with her? She had a boyfriend? The Doctor wasn’t in his right mind for petes-sake.

 

“Clara,” he mumbled into her hair semi-awake, “stop that.”

 

“Stop? Stop what?” she said incredibly panicky.

 

His arms pulled her into him and she wiggled around so she could see his face. He pressed his forehead to hers, “stop overthinking it, everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“What happened to just friends,” she hissed feeling something against her leg.

 

“Friends with benefits,” he joked and then sighed, “I’m your husband Clara, but I’m willing to wait. If you want to work on that we’ll work on it.”

 

“Crap,” she muttered turning her head to check the time, it was four… in the morning, “I can’t get anything done with you around. I had papers I was supposed to be grading and I was supposed to call Danny.”

 

He didn’t look too perturbed about that, in fact he was smirking. There was suddenly a demanding presence against her leg. She peered at him wearily, “are you- does that turn you on?”

 

“Yep,” he smiled nudging her playfully, “I have a thing for bossy angry women. What can I say?”

 

If things had been different: it she didn’t have a boyfriend, and he was the Doctor and not John things would have gone very differently. As it was she could feel her arousal pool between her legs. She attempted to pull away, worrying he’d be able to feel it, but he wouldn’t let her. “D-John, let me go.”

 

“Nope,” he said pulling her tighter, “your mine for three more hours.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, “we’re fixing things, we can worry about other problems later.”

 

“Zero to sixty,” she muttered under her breath.

 

He smirked, “if I remember correctly you were complaining about the lack of toughing.”

 

“I meant my hands or hugging or something like that,” she said rolling her eyes.

 

“We’re hugging now,” he said sweetly, “come on Clara, please. I thought we were making progress.”

 

She sighed wiggling closer to him, “I don’t know. I don’t seem to know much of anything now and days. What if we just made things worse? What if everything just fall apart when we leave this bed?”

 

“Then let just not leave,” he murmured into her neck.

 

“Running away?”

 

“I’d run away with you if you asked,” he said softly, his eyes so tender and soft she had to look away.

 

She laced her fingers though his and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes darted back and forth between his face and the ceiling, trying to form proper thoughts. She sighed, “I’m a bad person.”

 

He stuttered and looked at her aghast, “take that back.”

 

“It’s true,” she waved her hands about exasperated, “I’m a liar, a cheater, a bossy know-it all. What’s wrong with me?”

 

“Nothing,” he said immediately rolling over so he was on top of her, “nothing’s wrong with you.”

 

His hand was stocking her hair. His eyes were piercing her soul. Well she had said she’d wanted to feel loved, “yes, yes there is. Do you think this is moving fast? It seems a little fast to me.”

 

“Shh, calm down. Humans have such short lives Clara, let’s not waste them,” he whispered with an odd look on his face, “you’re brave and kind and funny. And I’ll have you know I like your bossiness. The only thing wrong with you is you need to relax.”

 

She touched his face tenderly, “why are you so good to me?”

 

“I’m not,” he laughed harshly, “feel free to add poor short term memory to your list of flaws.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him and make a face, “I really need to get ready though, I have a job to get to.”

 

He frowned, “can’t you call in sick.”

 

She gave him a pointed look getting out of bed, “no I cannot. And this, this can’t happen again.”

 

He gave her a sad look watching her back as she changed, “why not?”

 

“I have a boyfriend,” she said like it was obvious.

 

“And I have a wife to satisfy,” he said gruffly.

 

She raised an eyebrow, “I guess you’ll just have to satisfy me in other ways then.”

 

“I can do that,” he said softly, and she shook her head feeling like she was getting whiplash.

 

She sighed giving him the once over, “you’ll just be here then? Till I get back I mean.”

 

“In bed?” he joked, “Nah I should probably get up at some point.”

 

“Okay,” she said softly pausing at the door, “I’ll see you tonight then.”

 

She didn’t wait for his response she simply closed the door and rushed out.

 

Clara arrived at work early, but it was probably a good thing she had quite a few papers to grade. She also had a guilty conscience to wade through, but that was a whole separate issue. More importantly what was she going to do with the Doctor? Continuously boning him was not an option. She should really be figuring out what’s wrong with him.

 

“Hello,” came the knock on her door frame.

 

“Danny!” she exclaimed looking up, then she remembered last night and slammed her head on the table, “I didn’t call last night.”

 

He strolled over picking her head up off her desk, “your heads going to hurt if you do that, trust me I’d know.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” she began to apologize; already knowing she’d never give him the full story.

 

“I’s okay,” he said cheerily, “looks like the Doctor kept you up all night.”

 

She made a face at him, “what?”

 

“Bags, under your eyes,” he pointed, “I’d have brought coffee if I’d known. So he being a real pain then?”

 

She sighed pushing her palms into the desk, “he doesn’t even know he’s the Doctor. It’s like the basic facts are all there, but like someone cut all the alien bits out. I think he think I had a baby or an abortion or something and that’s why I kicked him out. … It’s weird it’s like talking to him- but not him, you know?”

 

“Probably the same man underneath it all,” he shrugged, “maybe it’s a blessing in disguise; easier to work out your problems this way.”

 

She shrugged uncomfortably, “I don’t know, he’s not exactly himself. And he’s so focused on fixing things that it’s barely leaving time to do anything else. What if we’re in danger?”

 

He frowned at her, “I’m your boyfriend Clara, you can ask me for help.”

 

She snorted, “you really want to baby sit someone who thinks they’re my husband?”

 

“Well, no,” he made a face, “of course I’d do that for you. I was more like thinking about canvasing the area for his space ship.”

 

Her eyes lit up, “would you? Please! It worries me to leave him alone, and that’d be so helpful.”

 

“No problem,” he smiled, “always here to help.”

 

She smiled at him touching his hand, “thanks so much.”

 

“See you tonight?” he asked hopeful but her frown told her otherwise.

 

“I’m still trying to get the Doctor situated, he upsets easy,” she said chewing on her bottom lip, “maybe tomorrow night?”

 

“Yeah,” he said sadly, “sure, tomorrows cool too.”

 

The bell rung and he made his exit. She spent the rest of the period desperately trying to not bang her head on the white board.


	10. If I Was Your Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Smith prepares a nice evening for his impossible girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo next chapter! Sorry about the delay between Celebration of Harry Potter, a test, and getting sick I've been a little behind. Hope you guys enjoy!

Things with Clara had gone rather unexpectedly, although she had always been contrary. He wasn’t a fool either, he hadn’t won her back yet, they’d just jumped around in the steps. The door opened and he watched as she slid through it, pressing it shut behind her, she looked tired.

 

“You have a good day?” he asked calmly, startling her none the less.

 

“No! Yes, I mean yes. Best of days, always love me a good Monday,” she said quickly, “wait, are you cooking something?”

 

“Surprise,” he replied sheepishly, not bothering to call her out on her lie.

 

He offers her his hand and she eyes it wearily like it’s some sort of trap, “you planning something?”

 

“Yes,” he said firmly, “now let me spoil you Clara.”

 

She took it hesitantly complaining anyways, “you can’t spoil me all the time John, it’ll make me… well spoiled.”

 

He guided her to the seat he’d set out for her, smiling wearily behind her back, “maybe that’s the point.”

 

She huffed loudly, but the corners of her mouth turned up despite her protests.

 

“So how’s your boyfriend?” he questioned lightly, moving to go check their food

 

“Really,” she snaked behind him annoyed, “are we really going there?”

 

“Well that what friends do right?” he said his back to her trying to remain casual, “it was between talking about that and shoes. And we both know why you wear those.”

 

She regarded him silently for a moment before responding, “to walk in of course.”

 

“Oh,” he said carrying their food over to the table, “I thought it was so you could kill a man.”

 

Her mouth popped open shocked. He thought about closing it for her, but decided against it. “You remember that?”

 

He snorted finally sitting down himself, “I don’t know why you think I’m the one with memory problems.”

 

“It’s just that-” she bit her lip a little spark of something in her eyes, “when I said that it’s ‘cause I was going to say kiss you. Too bad I need stilts to reach.”

 

He fought back a smile, but she sent him one letting him know it was okay, “you could always ask. I’d bend down for you.”

 

She shook her head, “naw it’d make me feel like an invalid. Plus you could still withhold kisses… for reasons.”

 

He snorted, “just order me then, Miss Bossy Pants. Really when have I ever withheld kisses from you?”

 

She bit her lip an odd look on her face before shrugging, “like I said, you’ve been distant. Didn’t think you’d wanted that- that you wanted me like that anymore.”

 

It wounded him, every time she said it, but he didn’t know how to make her stop. She shot him a smile that was much too wide and he couldn’t bring himself too shot her one back, he wasn’t that kind of a man.

 

“So pasta,” she changed the subject awkwardly.

 

“What don’t you like pasta anymore?”

 

“Just didn’t know you could cook. I was worried you’d burn down the hose if I left you alone,” she smirked at him.

 

They ate in relative silence. He wasn’t very good with words, but whenever she started to look to sad he’d throw a joke her way. She’d laugh, of course. On the small talk front she held up rather well; Courtney Wood was less of a classroom menace. Finally they were done though and she was cleaning up before he could tell her to do otherwise.

 

Slowly John moved over to his stereo turning on someone old fashioned music he’d found lying around. When he turned around he didn’t expect to see here there, looking up at him with those big brown eyes of hers, “what are you doing?”

 

He takes her hand and put’s the other one on her waist, “dancing.”

 

“Oh,” she exclaimed delightfully surprised. After a few minutes she rested her face against his chest and sighed, “this is nice, thank you.”

 

“Thought it’d be,” he said softly, his hand stroking her hair.

 

“Are- are you petting me,” she questioned peering up at him, a small smile playing on her face.

 

“The touching helps, yes?” He felt a sweaty and nervous, quite like a school boy.

 

A small laugh escaped her as she relaxed back into him, “yeah.”

 

“Good,” he said roughly blood rushing to his cheeks. As soon as the song ended he let go and went about smoothing himself down. She gave him a weird look and he frowned, “what?”

 

“I just- how come you don’t like touching anymore?” she asked curiously.

 

“Who said I didn’t like touch?” he shot back defensively.

 

“You did,” there was a sharp sound to her tone much like a teacher, “not much of hugging person, remember?”

 

He shrugged. In all honesty he wasn’t, now any days he felt like all his nerves had been stripped bare exposing him to both all the good and all the bad, “I thought I didn’t get a vote.”

 

“You don’t,” she said thoughtful, “just wondering why that changed is all.”

 

He stared at her trying to find the right answer, but her body betrayed no hints. How was he supposed to give her the correct answer when she acted like this, “does it matter?”

 

“You matter,” she said softly with a realization of sorts in her eyes, “you’ll always matter to me.”

 

“No matter what happens?” he whispered almost unsure he wanted her to hear him.

 

“Yes.”

 

He cleared his throat shoving his hands in his pockets, “I can’t really remember what’s supposed to come next. I mean I had the whole thing planned out: dinner, dancing, and something else. Just can’t seem to remember what it was.”

 

And really he had had a plan. He’d spent the morning after she left coming up with it, which had been rather difficult because he was sure he hadn’t done this in a while. But she always seemed to be throwing him for loops and confusing him. He was rather certain the other women in his life had never gave him this much trouble.

 

Before he could put much more thought into it he could feel himself being pulled down by his lapels. Clara raised up on her toes pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, “this, this comes next.”

 

“Yes that,” he whispered his hands resting on her hips. He held to her suddenly afraid to let go. There was something about this that felt too much like a good-bye.

 

Finally she pulled away a small smile on her face, “good night D-dear.”

 

“Clara,” he said quickly, grasping her hand in his own.

 

“Best you stay out here tonight,” she looked tiered, “I- I need time to think about things, alone.”

 

He breathed and tried his best to steady himself, “Of course.”

 

She gave him a sad smiled and went to make her leave.

 

“Oh and Clara,” he said once more stopping her in the door way, “miss you.”

 

Her eyes got all shiny and she did that weird head tilt thing, “miss you too.”

 

With that she closed the door and exiled him to another night on the couch.


	11. Three's company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward evening in for our trio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a Happy Valentines Day :3 Yeah the title's not a song, but I couldn't resist.

Danny frowned looking at the two of them. The Doctor looked at her as if she’d hung the moon and the stars. Although he’d always looked at her like that. And thankfully for Danny Clara was as dense as the books she taught. They moved about the place, always close to each other but never actually touching. If he didn’t know better he _would_ think they were an old married couple. Sharp quips were thrown back and forth without much care their eyes lighting up every now and again when they found a particular one amusing.

 

Danny frowned feeling like an interloper settling further into the cracks in their couch. Things were good between him and Clara, really good even. Like they were so good she was inviting him on a trip to Rome, her dead mom’s trip at that. What had he done to deserve this?

 

The Doctor plopped down beside him, “fancy a jelly baby?”

 

“W-where did you get those,” Danny asked scooting away from them man.

 

“Ahh,” the Doctor smiled widely at him, it was actually quite terrifying, “Clara took me to a candy shop, thought I might like it. Well that’s what she said; I think she was trying to distracting me actually. ‘Suppose it worked now that I think about it.  Anyways jelly baby?”

 

“Sure,” he said taking one hesitantly, inspecting it for tampering.

 

Suddenly Clara plopped down in the tiny space between the two of them, “ah! How’s my boys?”

 

“I had a friend once who used to say that,” the Doctor said quickly cut in before Danny had a chance to say anything.

 

Clara simply rolled her eyes ready to dismiss it, but he wanted to know. It was after all, for him at least, it was rare to have the Doctor this exposed, “of course you do, friends with everyone you are.”

 

“No really,” the Doctor said enthusiastically flailing about, “Ameilia Pond, best friend and mother-in-law twice over in fact.”

 

“Sisters?” Danny asked at the same time Clara asked, “Amy??”

 

The Doctor simply dismissed him with a wave of the hand, “no the second time it was only through marriage one of convenience on both our part, didn’t last long that one. Actually I don’t think I really had intensions on it at the time, I _was_ rather young and probably drunk for that matter, poor Liz.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Clara responded loudly cutting the Doctor off and turning her back to Danny. “I was there for that and _no_ you were not drunk, desperate yes, drunk no. And back to my point Amy?! Like as in _the_ Amy?”

 

He stared at her with a strange look on his face, “no that’s ridiculous. You couldn’t have been there-”

 

“Yes I was,” she cut him off rather harshly, “I’ll have you know I was the flower girl. Obviously you don’t remember.”

 

“You have got to be kidding me! My memory is fine,” he exclaimed, “sorry I wasn’t scamming on children at the time.”

 

“Oh, so you scam on children now,” she replied rather saucily.

 

His face went all scary eyebrows, “so help me Clara- I will bend you over my knee.”

 

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

 

Danny cleared his throat, “um, guys. I’m still here.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Clara smiled at him giving him a firm pat on the thigh, the Doctor practically growling behind him.

 

“So,” Danny said awkwardly, “your friend?”

 

“Ah yes! Amy!” The Doctor said settling himself, “grew up back in Scotland with her and Rory. I didn’t approve at first, but he made her happy even if he was a nurse. They ran a kissing thing at some point or something lots of costumes-”

 

“You wear any?” Clara asked feigning disinterest by very thoroughly examining her cuticles.

 

“W-w-what? No! I mean there were times- but no! All mine were respectable,” he said quite obviously flustered and Danny was torn between laughing and gagging.

 

“Sure they were,” she dismissed him and Danny rolled his eyes at them.

 

“They were,” the Doctor said increasing in volume, “I’ll have you know Sherlock Hol-”

 

“Doesn’t need a magnifying glass to find your-”

 

“Clara,” Danny and the Doctor exclaimed simultaneously for quite different reasons.

 

“I’m not the one who picked the costumes.”

 

“You usually do,” the Doctor said offhandedly and she snorted rolling her eyes.

 

“Anyways?” Danny prodded not wanting to even know what the Doctor thought went on between him and Clara.

 

“Anyways, she was Rivers mom, you know my… last wife. They had only recently been reunited, Amy having lost her at birth. We met online strangely enough, some sort of library program. Amy supported both our online relationships, until he realized they were one in the same,” he let out a small laugh, “she came around though.”

 

“So why doesn’t Clara know her,” Danny asked confused, “I mean as you friend shouldn’t she have come to your wedding or something?”

 

Clara gave him a thorough shake of her head standing up, obviously she was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.

 

“Ah no, Clara spoke to Rory once on the phone, but they died long before she could ever meet them in person. Rory went first and Amy never could carry on without him,” there was something haunted in his eyes, “I’d asked her to try but- honestly I get it. It took me awhile, but I get it. I was really bitter when they died; I’d already been losing River to her illness. I loved my wife, but she was never mine. She’d spent most of her time in jail, or on archeological digs, and she was already diagnosed when I met her so- anyways I get it now though. Don’t know if I could live without Clara in my life, it’s rather hard to imagine.”

 

Danny looked away. He didn’t want to see that, was too afraid to look into the other man’s eyes, too afraid of what he might find there. Clara circled back around setting tea on the table for them, she gave the other man a lose hug before settling in Danny’s lap. Her hand was still holding on though, her eyes meeting his big sad ones, “shh I’m right here.” The unspoken question of _but for how long_ remained in his eyes.

 

_This wasn’t weird at all,_ Danny thought sarcastically. He wasn’t stupid, he understood what the Doctor, or John Smith as it was at the moment, was telling him: Clara was his not Danny’s. To be quite honest he didn’t understand what Clara was telling him though. Because as much as he’d like for her to be happy, he wasn’t sure she could keep both of them.

 

She smiled lightly, “so movie?”

 

“Yes,” the other two simultaneously.

 

She popped off to shove a movie in before settling between them again. When the Doctor looked distracted he whispered to her, “I found the big blue box thing?”

 

“Ah yes that,” she murmured back, “that’s good right?”

 

He shook his head, “no luck in opening it.”

 

“Ah yes, about that,” she whispered sheepishly, “I might have a key for it.”

 

“Could have given it to me before hand.”

 

“Might not be the best idea. He,” she jerked her head, “wouldn’t be too happy if he found out.”

 

“So, what now then? I babysit him while you go search for clues?” They’d talked about it before, but the idea just seemed so much worse now. He’d do it of course, if she made him.

 

“Well,” she stretched it out not really wanting him to make her say it.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He rolled his eyes, but contended he’d pout later. Slowly as the movie progressed he noticed her falling asleep, curled into the Time Lords side. The man shot him a smug grin.

 

“She loves you,” Danny said surprising the man.

 

“Does she?”

 

“Yeah might not admit it but she does,” he sighed, “she loves me too though.”

 

The Doctor frowned, “Clara never did like to make things easy.”

 

“Tell me about when you met her,” Danny asked unsure he wanted to hear.

 

“She hasn’t told you?” Danny refused to answer that. “Well I suppose it all started with a mis-dial- on her end of course. I mean I’d met her in passing before; we’d even kissed under the mistletoe at her old bosses’ house once. You try telling her that though- she’ll insist I’m telling it all wrong. Anyways I tracked her down, wearing a monk outfit, so not cool- blah, blah, blah, stuff, stuff, stuff, bow-ties, some blond child, I ruined her leaf but got her mom’s ring back and that’s it that how we met.”

 

“Yeah, no,” Danny laughed, “that’s the worst story I’ve ever heard, you really suck with words. No wonder she says you tell it wrong.”

 

And at that, the Doctor smiled.


	12. Hey Hey You You I Don't Like Your Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny Pink baby sits the overgrown man child known as John Smith.

John looked over her new boyfriend, rather annoyed he was being babysat, he knew he wasn’t particularly fond on the guy but, “thank you; for taking care of her while I was gone, I mean.”

 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Danny scowled, moving things around the house back to how they had been before.

 

“Didn’t say you did,” he shrugged walking into the bedroom. Danny followed him, watching as he sat down on Clara’s side of the bed and began rooting through her drawer.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“It’s where she keeps important stuff, I was curious to see what currently fell under that category,” he replied dismissively. He was quite pleased to see his bow-tie in there, the memory of sliding it off on their wedding night came to mind. His finger grazed a few other odds and ends, things he was rather sure Clara collected on their travels. Her mother’s book was in there as well, a small smile lit his lip as he remembered the way she used to cart that book around from place to place.

 

“I don’t think you should be going through there,” Danny said hesitantly looking over his shoulder. John knew he was just as hungry to know what it held though… if it held any of him. John smirked, as far as he could tell it didn’t.

 

“You’re right,” he said roughly shutting the door, “I should go see what Clara’s doing?”

 

Danny instantly cut him off, “I don’t think she’d want you doing that either.”

 

He snorted, “what’s the worse it could be? A third boy toy.”

 

“You do realize you just called yourself a boy toy,” Danny laughed unabashedly.

 

Mr. Smith stiffened at that before shaking it off, “of course I did. I was boy toy number one after all.”

 

Danny rolled his eyes, “you’re smothering her Doctor, try and lay back a little.”

 

He scowled at the annoying man, “I go after the things I want, I don’t sit back and wait for them to come to me. And I’m a grown man I don’t need you babysitting me.”

 

“I’m not babysitting you! We’re just hanging out,” Danny protested.

 

John snorted, “so that’s what they call it now and days.”

 

“You know it’s not like this is what I’d choose to do with my day,” Danny grumbled.

 

John rolled his eyes, “and yet here you are.”

 

“For Clara,” Danny barked his temper beginning to rise again.

 

Of course he’s do it for Clara. John sighed rubbing his hand over his face, “yes, of course, right.”

 

Did Clara really think he needed to be baby sat by her boyfriend? He felt sad, or to phrase it better he felt pathetic. He thought they were making progress, but if they were he’d be with her right now instead of her boy toy, “you know? Whatever, I’m going to take a nap.”

 

Danny frowned and sighed knowing Clara wouldn’t be happy to come back to a disgruntled Time Lord, “what are you throwing a tantrum about now?”

 

“I’m not throwing a tantrum,” John spit out crawling into the bed and pulling the covers over his head, “I’m not a child.”

 

“You sure act like one,” Danny muttered.

 

“Oh sod off,” a grumble came from under the sheets.

 

Danny plopped onto the bed obnoxiously and gave the man an awkward pat, “is this another one of your strategies, Sir?”

 

“Strategies,” John frowned his ruffled head popping out of the blankets, “what are you on about now?”

 

“Don’t act like I don’t know you,” Danny said seriously, “you’re always playing games. Clara’s not that kind of girl, she’s a straight shooter.”

 

John frowned, “I’m not playing games.”

 

“Oh really?” Danny laughed harshly, “sure looks like it to me. Just stop messing with her head, alright? She doesn’t need that.”

 

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” John growled annoyed at the man’s audacity. How dare he talk about playing games?

 

Danny went ridged his voice becoming cold, “Clara _is_ my business. Why don’t you mind yours?”

 

“Clara is mine,” he practically roared at the man now, “ _you_ are the interloper in our relationship.”

 

The other man looked furious but he forced himself to relax causing John to frown. “So if the temper tantrums aren’t a game. What are they then?”

 

“I told you I don’t throw temper-”

 

“Yeah. Yeah you do,” the other man laughed, “come on, I’ll even make it easy for you. That last one, why were you hiding in bed?”

 

John scowled, “none of your business.”

 

“I’m sticking around whether you like it or not,” the other man sighed, “Clara’s orders. And she’s the boss. So can we please try to be civil?”

 

John was quiet for a few moments. Honestly he wasn’t too interested in being civil to the man trying to shack up with his wife, but he’d promised to do whatever it took to keep Clara happy and not alone. “I’m old.”

 

“Excuse me,” Danny asked confused at the outburst.

 

“I was always too old for her, but she makes it so easy to forget. That is until she’s flirting with some pretty boy or having someone look after me like I’m in the geriatric ward,” he frowned, “plus I’m wearing on her. All I want to do is make her happy, like I mean that’s _all_ I want to do. Does that make me clingy?”

 

“Perhaps a little,” Danny said light disguising his smugness surprisingly well, “people tend to find it attractive when someone has a life of their own.”

 

“I don’t want a life of my own,” he bit out bitterly, “I want a life together. I’ve had enough of a life of my own.”

 

“She hasn’t,” Danny said like it was obvious, mostly because to him it was.

 

“Maybe I should see if they’ll take me back as caretaker,” the Doctor mused, “at least I won’t be sitting around here all day, put these old bones to good use you know?”

 

Danny made a face. In all honesty having the Doctor poke his nose around his work place was the last thing he wanted to come out of this whole ordeal. “Have you tried just giving her up?”

 

“Tried,” John laughed, “seems to me I’m addicted though. I don’t think there’s a therapy group in the universe that could cure me.”

 

“And I’m sure you’d know,” Danny mumbled.

 

At that John laughed for real. After a moment of quiet a sad smile came to Johns face, “what would you do if you were me P.E.?”

 

“Who says I’m not,” Danny joked, “I don’t want to lose her any more than you do. But you see the thing is you might have chosen her, but she chose me.”

 

“There’s a difference between words and action,” John said a slight smile on his lips. No matter how many times she said she said she love Danny she always came home to him full of smiles. “She’s put her heart and soul into this relationship; she’s not the type to walk away.”

 

“Even if it’s what’s best for her?”

 

“Especially if it’s what’s best for her.”

 

The two of them reached a stale mate at that. It was obvious that neither of them planned on budging at the matter. Then again John realized that was the only natural conclusion that could possibly occur from such discussions.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was original ending as well as the subsequent chapter were lost when I had a computer error :( I'm currently working on rewriting them. I'd like to apologize ahead of time if there is any delays for next week, and if it comes to that I plan on uploading one of my alread completed one-shots. I hope you understand. Thank you.


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